


When Sovngarde Beckons

by Heiwako



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: F/M, General fiction, Literature, fan fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-10
Updated: 2015-05-10
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:41:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3909943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heiwako/pseuds/Heiwako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Listener Hecate's long life is finally over, but instead of the Void her soul ends up in Sovngarde. Aren't things supposed to get easier when you're dead?</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Sovngarde Beckons

A/N: This is a one shot that takes place after my main series. If you have not read Darkness Rises When Silence Dies, For the Future of Skyrim, or Dark Brotherhood Forever, this is going to make less sense. I believe it can be a stand alone, but the character interactions will mean less.

 

"Isn't this just fucking perfect?" I muttered angrily to myself. 

I was standing on top of a rolling hill looking out to a valley that had hundred-foot-tall stone statues of Nordic heroes flanking its sides. I could hear birds singing in distant trees as if they were next to me. A small herd of deer ran across a field flashing their white tails at me as they fled. Flowers of every type bloomed as far as I could see, and the clear blue sky held only a bright yellow sun that beat its hot rays warming my skin. There were no clouds or cloying fog like the last time I had been here. 

I was in Sovngarde. 

Gods damn it. 

I had finally died. It had taken a long timelong enough I had actually lost track of the years. I didn't even remember how I died. Probably horribly. Assassins rarely have the luxury of dying in their beds, and even then that was usually only after they had faced some terrible life-changing event like Garnag, who never recovered from his many years of lonely imprisonment in the Imperial prisons. 

All I really remembered were the two constants in my lifeBabette and Cicero. Eternally youthful, vampiric Babette, and my spectral assassin Cicero. 

I glanced around vainly hoping I could see my laughing Fool, but I was alone in this idyllic field. To be honest, I hadn't expected more, but one could always hope. Cicero had shown many times over the years that he could get into places he wasn't supposed to be and no one else would dare.  

I sighed before starting down the path into the valley that would lead to the dining halls of Shor's chosen. I had taken this same path a lifetime ago when I was the Dragonborn trying to stop Alduin from eating the souls of the dead and destroying existence itself. The entire realm had been covered in a mind-numbing fog, and I had found several spirits lost within doomed to wander the land until Alduin found them and devoured them. 

I had briefly seen the afterlife how it looked nowperfectbefore Tsun had ejected me from the heavens for my smart mouth. I knew my path would take me there, and I didn't really look forward to seeing him again, but my intuition told me there was nowhere else to go in Sovngarde. There were fields, mountains, forests, and rivers for hunting and fishing for the warriors to pass their time when they didn't feel like eating, drinking, or boasting, but otherwise all paths lead to the Hall of Valor. 

Too quickly I was at the whalebone bridge, the only entrance to Shor's Hall. Waiting for me, as I knew he would, was Tsun, god of trials versus adversity. He was tall, much taller than a flesh and blood Nord, close to ten feet. I hate how he loomed over me, giving him the perfect chance to look down at me. 

"So, you've returned," Tsun sneered. "Just as I promised. I suppose you thought you would escape your just 'reward'?" 

"The thought had crossed my mind," I said casually. I noted that I was wearing my dragon scale armor. Had I been wearing it before? I hadn't thought to look at my clothing as I walked. 

"By what right do you claim to enter the Hall of Valor?" Tsun asked. It had been the same question he had asked me last time I was here. Clearly he had decided to play this out strictly by the book. Where else was I going to go? 

The first time I had answered, "By right of birth. I am Dragonborn." 

Not this time. 

I stood as tall as I could. Although Tsun was much taller than me, it didn't feel that way to me. I was proud of the life I had lived, even if I had originally been a reluctant participant. "By the right of blood. I Listen for the Night Mother." 

"You dare claim that as a right?" Tsun yelled, outraged. He grabbed the huge hammer from his back and swung it two-handed at me. "Filthy assassin!" 

I flipped away easily in a backward somersault avoiding Tsun's attack. "Hey, I wanted to go to the Void. You're the one who dragged me here!" 

"You were a hero! One born of prophecy promised to save the world. You could have led the Nords to greatness that would be remembered for generations. Instead, you decided to skulk in the shadows and kill for mere profit." 

"It was never about money," I retorted as I snapped a hard kick into Tsun's wrist trying to stun him enough to make him lose his grip on his weapon. I might have been given my armor to remind me who I used to be, but the gods had not decided to give me any weapons to go with it. "If you had paid attention, then you would have known that. You Nords with your honor and pride always bragged about how valiant you were, but you managed to forget that you killed in the name of your gods. What I did was no different. My Family was just more honest about what we wanted when we were done instead of looting bodies and asking for bounties." 

I danced away after kicking Tsun, my foot tingling from the impact. It had been like kicking rock. Tsun swung his hammer up and quickly. His attacks were fast enough that he was creating a blur around him much like a human tornado. I dodged and ducked desperately. 

**"ZUN HAAL VIIK!"** I Shouted, using the disarm Shout. I might have been trained in unarmed combat, but I had no chance against Tsun and his gigantic weapon. The Shout washed over Tsun doing nothing. I groaned, not surprised. It had been a long shot that Shout would affect him, but I had to try. 

"My turn," Tsun said simply as he brought the hammer down. The force was enough to send me flying and knocked me out. 

 

*****

When I awoke, I was lying on the stone floor of Hall of Valor in front of the throne of Shor. As usual, the god's personal seat was empty for the god's presence would blind any who looked upon him, even the spirits of his chosen warriors. 

I looked up and saw that I was surrounded by the heroes of Sovngarde staring down at me disapprovingly. In the front of the crowd were my old fighting companions, Felldir, Gormlaith, and Hakon. They had helped me defeat Alduin after teaching me the Shout for Dragonrend. None of them looked pleased, but Gormlaith looked particularly mad. 

"What is she doing here?" Gormlaith snarled as she pointed at me. 

"It has been a long time, Gormlaith, but I am sure thou remember the promise I gave the Dragonborn," Tsun said, "and even if I regret it, I keep my promises." 

"At least you've allowed her to dress in a manner comfortable to her," a familiar deep male voice said. I turned, and the crowd parted to allow Ulfric Stormcloak through. I looked down and saw that I was wearing a jester's motley much like the one I used to wear for the contracts taken from Solitude during the last years of the Stormcloak Rebellion. 

"What in Oblivion are you doing here?" I asked sarcastically, and a little angrily. "I distinctly remember sending your soul to Sithis." 

"Actually, although it was your hand holding the blade, it was my hand that did the deed," Ulfric smirked as he offered his hand to me so I could stand up. I swatted it aside as I stood. "It's the small details that make the song, you know. My final act of defiance allowed me to come here to my rightful place in Sovngarde instead of the Void." 

"I'll be sure to do better next time," I said coldly. 

"There are no more 'next times', dear Diana," Ulfric said with that annoying half-smile of his. "That's the tragedy of death. You're out of second chances." 

"We'll see," I said as I fled the dining hall. 

Gormlaith made to follow me, but Tsun stopped her. "She is still a sister of this hall. I will see no harm befall our wayward sister. It is time for her to reap what she has sown, so she will play the fool for our hall as her punishment. Unless the Dragonborn attacks anyone, no one is to raise a hand against her." 

I felt extremely uncomfortable as every hero of Sovngarde stared at me as I ran through the halls. I had lived in the shadows for so long that it was second nature to blend with the background and to have the attention of an entire realm would be overwhelming even for a normal person. 

I tried to make my way to the front doors. Surely if I made it to the whalebone bridge, I would just keep running. I would rather spend the rest of eternity living out under the strange purple sky that sometimes formed in Sovngarde than stay in this dining hall with its tall, drunk, obnoxious Nords. 

The problem was, although no one hindered me, I seemed unable to find the front door. No matter how carefully I tried to retrace my steps, I always ended up in the main hall instead of the front lobby. I could look out windows, but they were firmly sealed shut so I couldn't even attempt an escape by tiptoeing over a ledge. Whoever was in charge here, probably Tsun, had made the Hall of Valor into a permanent maze. 

 

*****

I don't know how much time passed. Hours, days, weeks? It all felt the same for there was no way to tell time. It was always time to feast and revel when you didn't want to hunt or show off your physical prowess. There was no war, famine, poverty, or sickness here. The worries of the world were gone, and only the most valorous were allowed here. 

One time I was trying to pull a door open, but the damned thing refused to budge. I kicked the portal out of frustration while yelling curses at it. 

"I remember when you used to do that to Calixto's Curiosities," a woman's voice said behind me. I turned and saw Lydia as a young woman again wearing her old steel armor. It was how I always remembered her even after the years had turned her old and bitter. She smiled gently, "I was so embarrassed every time." 

"Lydia," I said softly, unable to look at my old housecarl. Of everyone here, she was the only one I felt any regret. We had been friends, best friends, and I had betrayed her by becoming part of the Dark Brotherhood. Fate kept intertwining our lives, so I hoped that she would one day forgive me, but she never had. 

I had not been there when Lydia died. She had spent the last part of her years as a Voice Master living with the Greybeards in High Hrothgar. I would visit every five or ten years, hoping to find Paarthurnax perched on top of his favorite meditation spot. One year she had been there, still refusing to speak to me, and the next visit her successor told me she had passed away some time ago. I don't even know how long I had been gone that time. Had it only been five years or twenty? 

"Welcome home, my thane," Lydia said gently as she placed her hands on my shoulder. She looked as if she wanted to hug me, but wanted to let me make the first move. 

"This is not my home," I said. "The Void is my home. Or it should be." 

"How can you even say that?" Lydia asked. She dropped her hands and took a step back, sorrow etched on her face. "After all you've done, Sovngarde still judged you worthy of these hallowed halls. Reclaim your right as Dragonborn and help us prepare for the final battle! What can the Void possibly offer you?" 

"My Family is there," I said. 

"You mean he's there," Lydia said bitterly. "You really mean Cicero." 

"Yes," I said looking down. It hurt so damn much to think of my jester and not know where he was. I could barely remember a time when he wasn't by my side ready to serve. When I looked up again, Lydia was gone. I sighed, but it was probably for the best. I could never be the hero Lydia wanted me to be, and she would never understand why I had chosen Cicero over her. 

 

*****

Once I realized that I couldn't escape the Hall of Valor, I took to being petulant. I would jump up and down on various dining tables, kicking or Shouting plates and food all over the place. Tsun's decree still held, no one attacked me, but guards would appear and haul me down to the dungeons below the mead hall to throw me into a cell until I cooled off. I spent more time down there than anywhere else. 

"I swear, it was easier escaping Cidhna Mine," I grumbled. I had been sitting on a long stone bench that was bolted to the wall and kicking my legs in boredom. I looked up when I heard a commotion in the halls. 

"How in Oblivion did the hellcat get out of her cell?" one guard asked. 

"No idea, but if that's going to be a common occurrence, we need to make sure Tsun knows," another guard replied. 

The door to my cell opened revealing two guards with their arms pinning the flailing limbs of another figure wearing a jester's outfit, whose face was obscured with an obsidian tragedy mask just like the one I used to wear on contracts when I didn't want to worry about someone knowing my identity. 

When the guards saw me sitting quietly in my cell, they gaped at me in surprise. Their prisoner went suddenly limp in their arms, slumping down between them. I was just as surprised, but training took over. Assassins have to be able to react to sudden changes in their plans, and preferably for the better. I leapt to my feet, ran to the guards, and jumped up to deliver a split kick to both their faces. The guards were instantly knocked out and fell to the ground. 

"Took you long enough," I said trying to sound casual as I pulled the mask off my double. In reality, my heart was beating a thousand times a minute. Smiling up at me was the madly grinning face of Cicero. 

"How many times must I tell you that there is nowhere you can go that I won't follow?" he asked as he stood. The Keeper pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply. I easily melted into his embrace and returned the kiss just as passionately. 

"I love you," I murmured as I nestled against the crook of Cicero's neck. 

"I know," he said as he smiled into my hair. "And if we weren't in the middle of a jailbreak, I would take you right now. You know how wearing your motley affects me." 

"Fool," I laughed. Although sane in death, Cicero still had a similar sense of humor to his living self, when he wasn't scolding me for being foolish.  "How in the Void did you convince Sithis to come for me?" Cicero had once told me that standard assassin procedure in Cyrodiil was to leave any caught siblings behind, and I knew he never went against a direct order. 

"Um," Cicero chuckled, "I didn't ask. I figured it was a case of better to ask for forgiveness than permission." 

"You are the most amazing man ever," I said as I kissed his cheek. "I cannot imagine anyone else sneaking into heaven to save me." 

"You better not forget it!" Cicero laughed. He tugged on my hand. "Come. We should leave before anyone gets suspicious." 

"There's a problem," I said as we fled down the hall. "I cannot find my way out. I tried and tried to no avail." 

"I'll figure out something," Cicero said confidently with a wink. The funny thing was that I believed him. 

When we emerged to the main hall, we found company waiting for us. Gormlaith, Hakon, and Felldir were standing in a wedge formation with Gormlaith leading. She tapped her sword in her hand. "I figured you'd try to run again, coward," she said. "Any last words before we kick your asses into Oblivion?" 

"Yeah," I said as I fell into a fighting stance. "Did you and Hakon ever sleep together? I always got that impression despite the fact you look like a raging lesbian." 

Gormlaith screamed in fury as she charged us. Cicero and I jumped in opposite directions as the female warrior crashed between us bringing her sword down hard enough that she shattered the stone tile we had been standing on. 

Hakon and Felldir turned to fight Cicero as Gormlaith continued her attack on me. I managed to get a few kicks and punches in, but not without taking some cuts along my arms and legs. Three versus two weren't great odds, but Cicero and I had taken on worse odds and won. 

**"FUS RO DAH!"**

The Shout hit me head on and sent me sprawling onto the ground. I slid a good thirty feet before bouncing off the hard wall. I was dazed, but managed to get back on my feet. I turned to the source of the Shout -- and to my dismay saw Ulfric Stormcloak. 

"Here," he said as he tossed an ebony dagger to me. I caught it in the air and flipped it into a defensive posture. "Wouldn't be very sporting if you were outnumbered and weaponless, would it?" 

"It would be easier if you just left, Stormcloak," I said as I withdrew. 

Ulfric and Gormlaith advanced slowly, but confidently. "Maybe, but have you ever known me to take the easy route?" Ulfric smiled wickedly as he hefted his axe. "Besides, I've been looking forward to kicking your smug Imperial ass for a long time." 

Ulfric gave a battle cry before he and Gormlaith charged in for the kill. Before the Nords could reach me, another thunder of **"FUS RO DAH!"** slammed into them throwing them back. They didn't skid as far as I did with their heavier mass and actual armor instead of cloth, but it was enough to give me some breathing room. 

I spun around to look at the newcomer. Standing at the top of the stairs, shining in her dragon scale armor, was Lydia. She leapt from the stairwell so that she landed in front of me with her huge two hander axe drawn. 

"I've got your back," Lydia said with a nod before she charged Ulfric and Gormlaith. 

"Will wonders never cease?" I muttered. For a moment, I was so overwhelmed by Lydia's help that tears threatened to fall and blur my vision, but I managed to blink them away. I'd think about it later when we weren't about to get pounded into the ground. 

I turned and ran towards Cicero and his opponents. The Keeper turned towards me when I called out his name and threw out his hands. Without slowing, I grabbed them and jumped so the momentum would allow Cicero to swing me towards his foes. 

My feet slammed into Felldir, staggering him, before I wrapped my curly toed shoes around his neck. When Cicero let go of me, I flipped backwards and dragged Felldir with me, slamming him into the ground. The mage slumped unconscious under the force of my weight. Still moving, I barrel rolled forward to stand as Cicero cartwheeled towards me. 

We touched hands so that for a moment we looked like partners in a formal dance. Never losing momentum, we danced our dance of death to music only we heard. As one, Cicero and I landed a flurry of punches and kicks on Hakon. The Nordic warrior tried to stop our attacks, but we were too fast and worked as one while he was without his companions. 

When Hakon fell, I turned towards Lydia. She was holding her own, but only barely, against Ulfric and Gormlaith. The two other heroes were not used to working together, so their attacks were not coordinated, allowing Lydia enough time to get out of their way. 

"Go!" Lydia called to me. "They're just trying to delay you. I'll be fine." 

"She's right," Cicero said as he grabbed my hand. I looked towards the main hall and saw all of the Hall of Valor gathering. 

I paused long enough to blow a kiss to Lydia and yell, "You were a much better Dragonborn than me!" 

"Liar!" 

"You're going to regret helping that traitor," Gormlaith screamed. 

"I doubt it," Lydia said calmly as she swung her axe. "I swore to protect her, and a true Nord never goes back on her word." 

I didn't see what happened next because Cicero and I ran down a corridor with several more heroes of old chasing us. No matter where we went, there were more halls and the angry spirits close behind us. 

"I don't understand," Cicero complained. "We should have found a door or window by now." 

"I told you that I was trapped," I reminded him. "I've looked for the front door, and it's impossible." 

"Close your eyes," Cicero commanded as he swept me up into his arms. I did so and tucked my face against his chest. 

"Did you I know I always wanted to rescue you?" Cicero chuckled as he ran. "You never gave me the opportunity to be the shining knight to come in and sweep you off your feet." 

"Aw," I pretended to pout, "what a shame." 

"Open your eyes," Cicero said. We were standing on the whalebone bridge. When Cicero set me on my feet, "I suspected that they had only trapped it for when you were trying to escape. Nothing to protect against sweet Cicero." The Keeper winked and stuck out his tongue when he mimicked his own old speech. 

"Okay, we're almost home free!" I shouted happily as we ran across. "All we have to do is get across the whalebone bridge." 

"Easier said than done, my dear Listener," Cicero said. He pointed to the far end where Tsun stood with his hammer ready. We looked back the way we came and saw the heroes of Sovngarde blocking our retreat with Ulfric leading the way. 

Cicero and I skidded to a halt in the center of the bridge. There was an angry, scorned god waiting on one side, and an entire army of the souls of heroes marching on the other. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place. 

Cicero and I spun so we were standing back to back. "It was a good try, dear Keeper," I said. "I don't think anyone else would have gotten so far." 

"I have one more idea," Cicero said softly, "if you're willing to try." 

I looked over my shoulder to where Cicero was pointing, but all I could see was the chasm that the whalebone bridge spanned. There was nothing other than the gaping emptiness that seemed to fall forever. 

"You clever bastard," I laughed as I took my jester's hand. 

Our steps matching, we ran to the edge of the bridge and without pausing, threw ourselves off the side. The wind rushed into my face, and I could feel my hair pull free of my cap as it fluttered free. Cicero never let go of my hand, and we laughed all the way down as we fell into the darkness of the Void.

**Author's Note:**

> Copyright Bethesda  
> Comments loved.
> 
> A/N: Sometimes a story just pops almost fully formed into your head from the oddest motivation. This story was one of those. I was reading "A Sort of Homecoming", a fanfiction about Ulfric dying and going to Sovngarde where he had to face those he had wronged in life, especially Rikke. It is a wonderfully written story and I strongly recommend it and it's predecessor "To Everything There is a Season."
> 
> I had the thought "I wonder what the afterlife would be like for Hecate? It would be too easy if she simply got to go to the Void, especially after pissing Tsun off. I hope everyone enjoyed the Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid ending for our two jesters.


End file.
